The nameless man needs to get his act together. 

There’s nothing he can control, nothing more than his own body and his own words. Matina is a divine sent down to help him, offering warm water to wash his hair in, cleaning his wounds in the way and offering nonsense stories of the place he’s been taken in.

The humble village of Yaigring, Matina kindly offered to answer when he asked.

He looks down at the warping reflection on the dirty water. Blond hair tilting more of platinum once it was rinsed from the grime and blood. Fair skin that became rosy red after a few good scrubs and his face is clean from any scars or acne. He doesn’t look like anyone who lived under the sun, like Baron, with olive skin and calluses hands.

( what does that make him? )

Sighing, he dragged himself out of the floor, and into the bed, ignoring the stings of the wounds pulling in his thigh. 

Afelina, the kind lady he first encountered, is the daughter of a fisherman. She is learning under Matina to be a gardener, as Matina goes on and on about the happy coincidence that she was the one who found him in the ditch that day. She and her father were just coming back from a two-day-long trip from another town and almost missed him.

And the rest, as they say, was history. 

A happy coincidence, huh?

The man shakes his head, the water beads thrown off from his damp hair, before taking the bag resting in the table next to the table; quietly waiting there since Matina left to get new clothes for him. With all the new names he is learning, he wonders again, if he too has a name.

He pours over the small, folded parchment, re-reading each individual letter, hoping to jog some missing puzzle piece if he concentrates hard enough. Nothing comes close to pricing the fog that clouds his mind though, just a lot of elegant, looping letters. Did he write this? If so, when? Was it days or weeks before he turned up washed up in some river with a dead horse?

Was he the messenger then? Was he going to be in trouble if he took the name "Aurelian"? 

Maybe, but then again, who the fuck will care? It's not like people are looking for him. Are they?

Okay, that turned depressing real quick. 

Was there a family waiting out there for him? A brother, a sister? Mother, father? 

A knock from reality at his door pulled him away from the spiraling sinkhole his mind turned to. 

Matina shoved the door open, happily smiling even without being invited, walking brightly with her cane. A thing he missed while he was being pulled in and out of panic when he first woke up.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" 

"Um, good? What—" He didn't even finish a sentence before he was manhandled to grab her cane from her and bring himself to his feet. 

"Isn't this yours?" The surprisingly heavy wooden cane was sturdy in his grip. He snapped back in worry to Matina, if she would collapse right there and then.

She grins mischievously if she could read his rapid thoughts.

"You think I need that silly piece of wood when I'm healthy as a horse?" She pulled her sleeve up, relieving bulging muscles under her loose clothes. 

Sun and Moon Almighty!

She throws her head back and laughs at his bewildered expression, gently nudging him to take a step with the cane's aid. He looks down at the cane still gripped in his hands, hesitantly putting his weight down, and taking a baby step. 

Well, a baby would have taken a bigger, bolder step, but he's an injured man here!

Matina 'tch' before she snaked her palm behind him and pushed him along with her.

"Woah! Okay—okay! I'm walking..." He limped a little, but he quickly used the cane to his advantage as they both quietly walked closer, and closer to the door. 

A rising emotion started to expand in his chest, a small shaky feeling bleed through his now white knuckles holding onto the cane. Was he really getting anxious over something as trivial as a door? He walked a road much harsher than this, why was he getting so nervous? Matina stood silent, before softly speaking.

"There isn't something out there to hurt you here, you're safe here,” With that, she opened the door in front of her, his hand half-raised as if to stop his impending doom.

The light is so stubborn, the way it's blinding before it's here. Right in front of the nameless man, stopping softly and something akin to gently before it jolts once. Sunlight blinded him, the sting quickly washing away as they both stepped into the fresh air. The trees rustled, the leaves flowing lazily into the grassy hills, overlooking a river. They were by the back of the house, it seems, a wooden fence, looking rather pathetic to keep any large animals in or out. 

But. . . He has to admit there's beauty in the saturated blue sky, and the contrast white clouds, the water that drizzles with reflecting light, to the air in his lungs expanding and deflecting.

"A good view, eh?" Matina smiles, her golden tooth shining with the sun, and she walks closer to the riverbank, her hand guiding him along. 

A bench, big enough for two people, sat just right under the shade of a willow tree, its leaves tracing soft circles around it.

"Do you remember anything?" The soft chirping of the birds hollowed him out. What should he say? That he is still useless as before?

A sudden idea struck him.

"Aurelian. I think—I think that's my name." He crossed his arms around his chest, making it a little harder to breathe, but he avoided her silent gaze, her gaze taking him apart and putting back together in a puzzle in her head.

"Alright then, it's nice to meet you, Aurelian," He jumps a little, maybe at the name being addressed to him or maybe because of how fast Matina took in the stroll. It didn't really feel like his. 

Yet—  there’s a warm feeling bubbling in the hollow out chest of his, a happy voice that is finally being heard. I have a name, I am someone. 

Hesitantly, he croaks out, "Can you please tell me more about the world?" 

Matina leaned back into the bench, closing her eyes as if to better feel the cool air from the river flow between her hair. Despite being an elder, she didn’t have the same air as one would think.

"I am an old woman, boy. I don't know much, but I'll tell you what I know." He—  Aurelian nods, biting his lips. 

Sighing, she begins. 

"This land belongs to Lord Aldrich from the noble house of Braxton, of the Northern regions— which is where you are." A little piece of nugget, so small and insignificant, popped into his head. He gasped a little, startling Matina when he whipped to face her, pride in his face when he loudly exclaimed.

"Wait! I remember something, don't you have to work under the Lord directly to live in his lands?" He puffed his chest out a little, not caring for the words, but that he actually remembered something. 

Marina looks over him, a little smitten to see him so proud of remembering something so little. A soft smile carved in her face out of fondness. He looks like a child catching his first fish.

"Yes that's right, usually one has to tend to his fields or hunt for his meals, but we are recognized natives, ones that were here long before the empire, or the people before them. We are under the protection of Lord Aldrich, technically he cannot harm us or force us to do work. But he can collect taxes, which we pay of course." 

She paused, pushing herself off and stretching her back. Aurelian could faintly hear the popping in her joints and she offered a broad smile in return. 

"C'mon, talking is better with a full belly," Aurelian nods, a little flush from his previous outburst.  He wobbled a little, feeling a little out of place as the old granny steady him, rather than the other way around.

A first step to the new world.